


Chains

by jxtxadore



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Post WWI
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:47:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3607290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxtxadore/pseuds/jxtxadore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post WWI and WWII drabbles</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. WWI

The chains were more than physical. They clamped upon his spirit and his people, upon his life and his emotions. The weight of the metal forced him to bow to the might of the others, to feel just how woefully strong they were, compared to him. Austria was near him, his annoying voice blissfully silent, and yet, hearing that familiar annoyance would have forced him to cry. No longer was he able to hear the sound of Chopin streaming through the halls. Hearing those notes float at odd hours, even when they were to be asleep.

He knew that nothing could keep Austria away from that instrument. The notes were beautiful, he would admit, though never to the other. Beautiful as the cold efficiency that they were currently being held with, their leaders already chained, deprived of their powers, or dead. He didn't know what the answer was, but he did know that it would be an issue to bring his people back to power.

The terms placed, however, we're enough to truly bow his shoulders, pressing the weight, the undertaking further and further. He knew that if things went wrong, the possibility of dissolving was true and possible, and he knew that the realization would be crushing for the other nations.

He was strong. His people would manage it, they would come through strong. The Germans would come through. They had to. No german land would fall to disunity and chaos. They were much too skilled in their ways, they were too strong to even come close to being that weak. No. Germany would come to their power again, and if his ruler tried to turn the blame to an others... he he did not know how he would manage that. However, he knew that he would manage it well enough that he would be able to to keep those living here well.

The debts were steep, yet Germany had been expecting some form of punishment for him, and potentially his people. The metal was at least warm by now. His wrists were chafing slightly, yet that was another thing to be expected. High enough he knew that they would be years of taxes and export revenue. To be finished before 1950 would be impossible. His people would be filled with loathing to him, and he knew that it would be a thing he couldn’t escape, nor could he leave. No, the Loathing was something he deserved for continuing this war.

The punishment would be more than enough for him.It would be the proper amount. It would be the amount that he would have given to any man or woman who was a traitor to his country, and that was a fact that couldn't’ be helped. What he was doing now, wasn’t something that was to be thought of poorly. No.

World War One was over, and he couldn’t help but think of what could have been. His nation would have rose to a height that had only been dreamt of, something that his brother could claim proudly was once his. The elder of the two, Gilbert was obviously more intelligent than his younger brother, standing on the other side, free, his suit proper, his eyes a mixture of sadness, anger, and a bit of regret. If he wished that he was instead standing there, it did not show in his eyes, yet there was a surefire appearance that he was willing to help his younger brother. Their eyes met for a moment, yet that moment was all it took for Germany to regain some of his strength, in putting on a show for the other, trying to claim the torture his body felt was not nearly as bad as he thought it would be.

The connection lasted merely moments, and Germany moved his eyes down once more. The atrocities that were committed in his names were ones he never wished for.

His eyes moved along the countries, and they couldn’t help but look to his right. Before his eyes, the other countries were hooded, their faces disappearing, quickly, and without remorse. His eyes were searching for America when he felt the presence behind him, his brother look away, and the rest of the nations look away, unable to help seeing him as he was, the moments before the hood came down. Bruised, bloody, and swollen, he knew that the nations would only see him as thus for the years he would be gone, put in solitary, as his people rebuilt, hopefully stronger, and ready for their country once more.

His crystal blue eyes couldn’t help pinning on his brother one last time, as the burlap descended.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The feeling was much too similar to before. He hadn’t meant at all to have this happen. His fruther had promised that it would be different; after the population was cleansed of all that didn’t look like the country, everything would be perfect. He’d thought that Adolf had been removing the jews, the homosexuals, the retarded. He had believed that they had been removed to a place much better than this, to a place fitting their religion, attraction, afflictions. However, after America and the rest had come and alerted him to the atrocities of Adolf, the man had changed to infamy in mere moments. It should have been obvious, the effect that the methamphetamines had been having on Adolf. 

His eyes closed, keeping the tears in. He knew that if he were to cry, it wouldn’t make any of this easier on anyone. No, he needed to take the repercussions as they were given. The punishments were severe, yet they were to the point that he could understand them. They were what he had expected them to be. 

Occupation by four other countries,  separation of his country to be ruled by others, though he would still be unified under the German flag. This time, it was more than his own body that was going to be inflicted. No, his brother was going to be influenced just as much as he was. Nothing was going to influence the fact that he was now something that was a figment ruled by others. He body was going to slowly change to reflect the state of his country, the slow reflection of the degrading state of his power. 

He knew that Italy was going to suffer even worse. having been the first to be defeated, he wasn’t too eager to have gone back to his country. The people were in a near state of anarchy. The fear that he had felt in the body that had laid next to him that night hadn’t been a body of a boy with an uncaring, unhurried childhood. It was the boy of someone who needed to be held and assured that he was still going to be alright, and that he had gotten through worse situations than this. Though he was currently like this, that his people might be willing to change him again, that he was still Italy. 

That had been the first time Germany had held the elder, and yet, not the last. No, he was willing to hold the other nation after that, every night that he came into the same bed as Germany. 

Yet those would be thoughts to occupy him later. After everything was said and done. Now, he needed to listen to the consequences. If he could. The amount that they had been winning…

His eyes closed, as just a couple tears dropped, and he thought of Japan. The pacific nation was still fighting. He was fighting against America. The claims that the pompous nation were claiming now were ones that Germany was happy to ignore, and to instead focus upon the fact that though, yet he was beaten, he wouldn’t be able to help his allies any more. No, that would never truly be able to do. Instead, he would be confined to his home until the war was utterly over, and his people would have to see that which he had already. That which Adolf had promised had never happened. No. The man lied. The truths that he had claimed had been incorrect. He had to ignore that, now. 

No. 

As he looked up at the mention of a bomb able to level cities, his blue eyes found America, and his brow raised dramatically. Though he said the words with an air of arrogance, surely he knew that if he were to do such a thing, he would be taking nearly as many lives as he had. The entirety of Japan could be under America’s thumb, if such a thing existed. 

If such a thing existed, the world would change, and Germany knew he might never rise again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this being so short. There is some art that I am trying to find that inspired this, actually.  
> Would there be interest in an AU where I discuss WWIII?


End file.
